


Broken in the Rain

by JustAnotherBlonde



Series: A Lifetime of Moments [17]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Sex, And dealing with unresolved feelings for Itachi, Comfort/Angst, Deidara is working through some issues, Gay Sex, Itachi likes playing with hair, M/M, Mutual Hair Washing, Porn With Plot, Sex, Showers, Smut, The main one is being horny as hell, This SasoDei train shall not be derailed, but fear not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherBlonde/pseuds/JustAnotherBlonde
Summary: “Why do I have to break everything? Mn,” Deidara muttered into Itachi’s chest. “I destroy everything I create—it’s like I have to. I break my statues; I broke Sage’s equipment… I broke Sasori’s bowl. I broke that glass. Now I think I’m about to break my relationship.”Sasori is out of town on a conference. Itachi, Deidara’s so-called “hated rival” from the Dawn Climbers, has been spending an increasing amount of time with Deidara, teaching him kintsugi in an effort to repair the precious piece of Sasori’s mother’s pottery which Deidara broke. Deidara, frustrated at the state of his relationship, sex life, and unresolved feelings for Itachi, takes a chance in the rain.
Relationships: Deidara/Sasori (Naruto), Deidara/Uchiha Itachi
Series: A Lifetime of Moments [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878778
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Broken in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Just_a_Vampire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_a_Vampire/gifts).



> i apologise if this piece upsets my readers in any way! as with anything, if you don’t want to read about Deidara being unfaithful, you don’t have to. skip it and pick the story up in the next part. but what i’d like to say here is this: my aim is to explore a more nuanced relationship between two adults. that sometimes means people do things they regret. but it doesn’t mean the end of the relationship.
> 
> but hey, if you’re okay with all that, sit back and enjoy the smut. i promise you it’s GOOD. my glorious beta reader not only provided thorough notes but also conducted primary research for maximum accuracy. thank you, my vampire babe!

**Broken in the Rain**

The warehouse was growing dim. Deidara stood, stretched, and flicked on the lights. He and Itachi had been working on _kintsugi_ all afternoon after morning classes let out. The worktable was scattered with pieces in various states of completion. They had collected mismatched crates to use as seats, and Deidara had thrown his overcoat over his for extra padding. He walked back to his crate, kicked off his shoes and sat down, cross-legged.

He watched Itachi work, then raised a hand to touch the bruise on his cheek. He knew it came from the night he had had too much to drink at Snake Den, but he didn’t really remember how it had happened. Sasori had mentioned him falling on the floor, but…

“How long is Sasori’s conference supposed to last again? Mn,” he asked once he grew bored of stimulating mild pain by poking the bruise.

Itachi looked up from applying gold enamel to the rim of a coffee mug. “Shouldn’t you know?”

Deidara shrugged. “I guess…” He eyed Itachi, gauging his reaction, measuring how comfortable he was before saying: “Honestly, I wish he’d stay away for a little longer.”

Itachi paused, then set down the mug. “What makes you say that?”

“Things have been… odd lately, mn,” Deidara began, chipping at a drip of enamel stuck to the table with his fingernail. “He can get really focused on things, like—” He stopped himself. Sasori had made him promise to keep quiet about the plan to get to Sasuke. “Like his puppets… Don’t get me wrong, he’s still really sweet sometimes, but lately it just feels like he’s ignoring me…mn.”

“He gets like that. And he’s trying to take less medication these days, right? Has he been okay?”

“Mn. Everything’s been fine on that front…” _If you don’t count his temper, mn._

The enamel came free. Deidara started working on another line of droplets.

“He’s supposed to get back on Sunday, I think,” Itachi said, picking up his mug and paintbrush.

Deidara sighed loudly. “Three more days… ugh…”

Itachi’s eyes flicked up to Deidara, a sly expression on his face. “Do you miss him or not? You just said you wanted him to stay away for longer, now you’re complaining about waiting three more days.”

“Of course I miss him!” Deidara exclaimed, shivering at the sudden gust of autumn wind that slipped through the cracks in the warehouse windows. “I fucking hate sleeping all alone. The bed’s so cold, even with the heating all the way up, mn.”

He stood, shoving his feet halfway back into his shoes and his hands into his pockets. His hands were freezing. When he looked up at Itachi, he was surprised to see Itachi was smiling as he worked. _Maybe I’ll warm up if I sit next to Itachi,_ Deidara thought. He slowly walked around the table.

“Scooch, mn.”

Wordlessly, Itachi moved over on the crate so that Deidara could sit on the crate with him. Deidara sat so that they were back-to-back and drew one knee up to his chest. They sat in silence for a short time while Itachi continued working.

“Ughhh......” Deidara sighed.

“What is it now?” Itachi asked, head twitching slightly in Deidara’s direction.

“It’s just… I really like Sasori, you know?”

Itachi said nothing, waiting for Deidara to continue with the unspoken “but”.

Deidara sank back against Itachi, letting his head fall back and rest on Itachi’s shoulder.

“But like, I need sex!! We’ve been together six months, still _nothing_ , mn!”

Itachi couldn’t help but laugh. “And what, that’s the longest you’ve ever gone without?”

“Well, no. And it’s not like we haven’t made any progress… We’ve been working on it… We kiss, he touches me… But I’ve had nothing but a single hand-job mid-summer, then nothing after that because it turned out that was too much.” Deidara sat up and swung around to look at Itachi. “I’m losing my mind, mn!”

Still laughing, Itachi set down his mug and placed his hands on his knees, looking at Deidara with smiling eyes.

“I think you’ve already shown incredible patience for sticking it out with him this long. He’s been through a lot, and he needs the time.”

Deidara sighed again. “Yeah… But I think I might have fucked things up right before he left…mn.”

“What happened?” Itachi’s eyes flicked to the bruise on Deidara’s cheek. Deidara lifted a hand to it self-consciously.

“No, no, I hit the floor when I fell off the sofa. I guess. I was drunk… I don’t really remember… But I know I was horny as hell and tried to come onto him… mn.”

Itachi gave him a sympathetic look and a small smile. He placed a hand on Deidara’s knee, then took it back to pick up the coffee mug he had been working on.

“Sasori’s like _kintsugi_ ,” he said softly as he slowly turned the cup in his hands. “You spend the time putting him back together, healing him, but even then, he’s fragile. He can always be broken again.”

“And the places where he was broken before are weaker…” Deidara said faintly, staring at the cup. He plucked it from Itachi’s hand and turned it over, examining the glistening gold lacquer.

“That’s probably true, but it’s not a perfect metaphor,” Itachi said. He took the cup back. “Some may argue the lacquer and gold make the joints stronger… But if you drop it, the cup would break again, all the same.”

_All I’ve ever been good at is breaking things and running away…_ Deidara thought, still staring at the cup in Itachi’s hand. _Where will things end up with Sasori, mn?_

He looked up at Itachi, who was studying him closely with those blood-red eyes.

“Come on, get back to work,” Itachi said. “It’s getting dark like it’s going to rain. Let’s finish up and get out of here.”

*

“After you, mn,” Deidara gestured, allowing Itachi through the door first. He pulled it shut and locked up, key ring jingling as he tossed it into his pocket.

A fierce wind was gusting, but it hadn’t started to rain yet. Itachi looked up at the clouds, then at Deidara.

“You wanna get a drink?”

“God, I thought you’d never ask, mn. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“There’s a pub around the corner, mn.”

Deidara set off down the pavement and Itachi fell in step beside him, hunched against the wind which whipped at his waterproof jacket. Deidara’s beat-up overcoat flapped around his knees. He tugged it closer, holding it together at the neck where one of the buttons were missing. It wasn’t waterproof in the slightest. The sky was dark, the sun setting somewhere behind the clouds.

“It’s going to pour later,” Itachi commented. Deidara grumbled.

The pub was warm and small, with threadbare carpets and an awkwardly shaped bar. The space had been expanded from one room into two and a half at some point about a century ago. Deidara and Itachi ordered their pints and found a private booth. They sat opposite each other in silence while Deidara fidgeted with the beer mat.

*

Three pints later, Deidara was telling a dirty joke while Itachi chuckled, wrinkling his nose. When he smiled, his whole face lit up. Deidara wondered if he’d ever really seen Itachi’s teeth in a smile before. He found himself staring.

“I’mma get another round, mn,” he said, standing so quickly he smacked his head on the stained glass lamp hanging low above their table. “Ow.”

Itachi laughed. “Sure. Don’t break anything.”

This comment shot through Deidara like an arrow. _Breaking things. Always breaking things._ His thoughts wandered as he placed his order and waited for the bartender to pull their pints. _Where am I going with this?_

When he returned to the table, he squeezed into the booth next to Itachi. Itachi had been drawing circles in the condensation that had collected on the table—not checking his phone, like Deidara had been doing when Itachi got the last round.

“Tell me what really happened with your parents, mn,” Deidara said, fixing Itachi with a serious gaze.

Itachi continued drawing circles on the table. Without looking up at Deidara, he reached for his pint and took a deep draught. Grimacing at the bitterness of the drink, he set it back down, then turned to face Deidara.

“I don’t think I know you well enough to give you that story yet,” he said. “Not even my little brother knows the full truth, and that story belongs to him.”

Deidara searched Itachi’s deep red eyes, finding nothing within them. He could try asking more questions, follow the line of investigation he and Sasori had begun with Kabuto about the Uchiha, find out whether Kabuto’s stories were truths or lies as Tobi claimed, but Deidara’s heart wasn’t in it. Why bring Itachi’s painful past and family drama up now? If he pushed it, more likely than not Itachi would shut down and make some excuse to leave. And for some reason, Deidara didn’t want Itachi to leave him just yet.

“Fine, mn.” He sat back and sipped at his pint. He did not move back around to his side of the table.

Itachi leaned forward, elbows on the table, picked up a beer mat, and flipped it back and forth. Occasionally it would flip out of his hands and he’d grab for it. After a few minutes, Deidara set his pint down and watched, waiting for an opportunity to snatch the beer mat. The first time he grabbed it out of Itachi’s grasp they both grinned at each other, and it became a game. A silly game, with virtually no rules, other than one person needed to randomly flip the mat and while the other tried to snatch it from him.

The first time Deidara grabbed Itachi’s hand accidentally, he held on to it for a moment before letting it go. Itachi looked at him, then carried on flipping the mat. Before long, grabbing and keeping hold of each other’s hands became part of the game. It turned into thumb-wrestling, and finally, they were just sitting there, holding hands on the table, faces flushed from playing. Deidara’s heart was beating in his throat.

“What…?” he muttered to himself.

He pulled his hand away so quickly that he knocked over his pint glass, cracking it and spilling the remnants of his ale across the table.

“Shit!” he said, jumping half out of his seat to grasp for tissues and frantically wipe up the mess. He nicked his thumb on a shard of glass and inhaled sharply. “Fuck!”

“Stop, stop!” Itachi soothed, pressing Deidara back into his seat. “Just leave it! It’s fine. Here, wrap that up.”

He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wrapped it around Deidara’s bleeding thumb, compressing it and lifting it above Deidara’s heart.

“Hold that there,” he said.

Deidara set his elbow on Itachi’s shoulder to elevate his thumb, then collapsed onto Itachi’s chest, cuddling close, feeling vulnerable.

Itachi held his arms up in surprise, then slowly wrapped Deidara in an embrace.

“Why do I have to break everything? Mn,” Deidara muttered into Itachi’s chest. “I destroy everything I create—it’s like I _have_ to. I break my statues; I broke Sage’s equipment… I broke Sasori’s bowl. I broke that glass. Now I think I’m about to break my relationship.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Itachi said in a low voice. His deep voice rumbled in his chest, resonating against Deidara’s ear. “If anything, you’re putting Sasori back together. He’s been broken for so many years, and then you come along… I hadn’t thought it was possible. There was never anything I could do for him. But you… you’re healing him, little by little.”

Deidara looked up. His eye was red-rimmed, expression distraught. “But then why…” He took a breath. “Why do I want to kiss you so badly, mn?”

The words hung in the air for a heartbeat, then Deidara’s lips were on Itachi’s, and Itachi was kissing him back. Itachi tasted just like that night a year ago, but better, sweeter, softer. Deidara shifted in the booth so that he was almost facing Itachi, almost straddling his lap. His body grew warm with desire and he pressed closer—pressed his bruised cheek into Itachi’s. The pain reminded him of Sasori. He broke away so fast he struck his head on the lamp again, jumping out of the booth without even grabbing his coat.

“Deidara! Wait!” Itachi called.

In the narrow corridor between rooms, Deidara crashed straight into another patron juggling three pints, spilling all of the contents down her shirt and shattering the glasses on the floor. He stared at the wreckage, stammered half an apology and bolted for the door.

“Hey asshole! I paid for those!” the woman shouted angrily after him.

Itachi, close behind with Deidara’s overcoat over his arm, flicked a banknote out of his wallet and stuffed in into her hands.

“Here. I’m sorry,” he said, eyes pinned to Deidara’s fleeing back. The door slammed shut.

*

Outside it was pouring. Buckets. Deidara could barely see his outstretched hand through the rain. Which was why when Itachi caught up with him, he hadn’t run very far. He stood at the mouth of an alleyway not fifty meters from the pub entrance.

“Deidara…” Itachi began. Deidara turned, and Itachi threw Deidara’s overcoat around his shoulders. Not that it would do much good—by the time Deidara pulled his arms through the sleeves it was soaked through.

“Dei…” Itachi tried again. His expression was soft, forgiving, kind, understanding. Everything Deidara had hoped not to see. He wanted rage, revulsion, maybe pity, even condescension. He did not want Itachi to want him back. But he did. And that made this all that much harder.

“Deidara,” Itachi tried a third time, rain drops dripping off the end of his nose. “We should go home. You should go home. To your home. And I’ll go back to mine. We shouldn’t do this.”

_Well now I have to do it,_ Deidara thought stubbornly. _It’s too late to turn back now._

“Sasori doesn’t have to know, mn,” Deidara murmured, looking up at Itachi through his eyelashes. His blond hair was rain-darkened, ponytail limp. He reached for Itachi’s hips and pulled Itachi towards himself, stepping back so that he could lean against the alley wall. Itachi stepped with him, and pinned Deidara against the rain-slick bricks.

“I need this, mn.”

Before Itachi could utter a word of protest, Deidara’s lips had found his once again; Deidara’s tongue was exploring his mouth, both of them drinking up the rain water that spilled onto the other’s lips.

Body hot despite the chill dripping down the back of his collar, Deidara broke away to whisper in Itachi’s ear, “I want you to fuck me, mn.”

Nuzzling Deidara’s neck, kissing the corners of his mouth, Itachi replied, “I want to fuck you.”

Deidara gasped in pleasure. “Yours.”

“Okay.”

*

Itachi had a flat in one of the newest buildings in town, a high-rise with shiny lifts. Catching sight of their reflection in the lift mirrors, Deidara laughed out loud.

“We look like shit, mn,” he sniggered, grinning at Itachi.

“Then stop looking,” Itachi murmured as he swooped in for another kiss. His lips were cool and playful.

They got off on the eighteenth floor. Deidara kept stealing kisses while Itachi fumbled with the door.

“C’mon, Itachi, get it open, mn,” Deidara teased, sliding his hand under Itachi’s jacket.

“Stop it,” Itachi grinned. He pinned Deidara to the door, kissing his neck, sucking hard just as he slipped the key into the lock.

“Hey,” Deidara said, twisting away and giving him a sharp look. “Don’t leave any marks that aren’t gonna be gone by Sunday or I’m in deep shit, mn.”

Itachi turned the key and pushed open the door. He stepped through and moved as if to close the door on Deidara.

“You don’t want it, you can leave. I wouldn’t want to risk the wrath of the Scorpion.”

“No no no, shit, Itachi, let me in, mn!” Deidara exclaimed, forcing his way inside, tumbling into Itachi’s arms.

“You’re not even drunk, you piece of shit,” Itachi laughed. He backed Deidara up to the door and kissed him gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen somebody want it this bad.”

“Fuck, stop messing with me!” Deidara growled, pushing Itachi lightly on the chest. “Now take off your fucking clothes, mn.”

Itachi started by peeling Deidara out of his overcoat, letting it fall to the floor. Deidara unzipped Itachi’s waterproof and tore it off, going straight for Itachi’s t-shirt underneath. Itachi started tugging up Deidara’s sweater, then paused.

“Wait, let me get the heat on in the bedroom,” he said, pulling Deidara by the belt buckle into the bedroom. He flicked on a lamp, dimly lighting up the space.

Deidara glanced around the room, tidy but not overly so, random knick-knacks crowding the dresser, cloth draping the windows, but before he could look any closer Itachi had returned from turning the radiator dial and was liberating him from his sweater and belt.

Itachi pushed him down on the bed, and as he pulled off Deidara’s undershirt, he kissed his stomach hungrily.

“Ah!” Deidara cried out, squirming: he was ticklish there.

Itachi unbuckled his own trousers, pulled them down, and dropped them to the floor with a thud, climbing into the bed in his boxers. He then moved to undo Deidara’s jeans, lithe fingers deftly but slowly playing with the fasteners.

“Fuck…” Deidara breathed. He was hard and straining to be free. But he had worn rather tight jeans that were now proving difficult to remove while wet. “Fuck! Goddammit stupid fucking trousers! Here—”

He wriggled while together they maneuvered the material lower and lower, finally peeling them off and tossing them to the floor.

“Fuck!” he breathed as he crawled back over to Itachi, straddling him and cupping the back of his head as they kissed deeply, lips and tongues, nipping teeth. Their hair was in various states of disarray: Itachi’s ponytail was half-pulled out, while the hair Deidara had left hanging to his shoulders was quickly becoming a rat’s nest. _At least Itachi will have a proper brush here…_ Deidara thought. _No, focus, mn!_

He traced his hand down the side of Itachi’s body and brushed his fingers along the top of Itachi’s boxers until he found what he was looking for. Itachi rose beneath his fingers. Deidara slipped his hand beneath Itachi’s waistband. His cock strained in Deidara’s hand. Deidara stroked it and felt his own blood rise.

“Mn,” Deidara sighed, eye closed.

Itachi placed his lips next to Deidara’s ear and gripped the back of Deidara’s head, fingers weaving into his hair.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, lips brushing like butterflies. Deidara’s insides turned to jelly.

“I want you inside me, mn,” Deidara whispered back, body tingling.

“Thought so,” Itachi growled in response. He planted a hungry kiss behind Deidara’s ear, barely exercising enough control not to leave a mark. His cock pulsed in Deidara’s hand. “Are you sure, though? You said it’s been six months.”

“Tch.” Deidara pulled back to look Itachi in the eyes. “I said _I want you inside me_ , mn.”  
  


Grinning like a wolf, Itachi flipped Deidara off his lap and removed Deidara’s underwear faster than Deidara could think. His eyes followed Itachi’s hand as he reached over to the drawer in his nightstand and snatched the lube.

Deidara lay on his back while Itachi squeezed lube onto his fingertips. He found Deidara’s entrance and began to massage around it in slow circles, working gently to relax Deidara’s muscles. He gradually applied more pressure, allowing Deidara to accept his finger. As he sank inside, Deidara gasped and grit his teeth—he was tight. It had been too long…

“I can go slowly or I can make it hurt,” Itachi murmured as he gazed down at Deidara, biting his lip and grimacing.

“Just—ah!” Deidara panted. He squirmed, but in doing so pressed Itachi’s finger deeper. “Keep going, mn. Hah.”

Itachi moved his finger around, widening the entrance, relaxing Deidara’s muscles. Deidara murmured, half in pleasure, half in pain. Sweat was forming on his brow and lower back.

“More,” Deidara hissed, looking up at Itachi’s face—such serious concentration—“Mn.”

A second finger joined the first and Deidara cried out, writhing and clutching the sheets. Itachi moved his fingers inwards and outwards and used his other hand to slick on more lube until his palm slapped wetly against Deidara’s skin.

“Okay, mn,” Deidara whispered, panting softly. His heart fluttered like a bird.

Itachi searched for the lube on the sheets, but when he found it, Deidara grabbed it from his hands, flashing him a mischievous look. Itachi took off his boxers, kneeled just in front of Deidara, straddling his legs. Deidara almost took Itachi in his mouth; instead he planted kisses on his hip, his lower belly, his hair…

“Condom, mn,” he murmured, remembering in time.

With a grunt of assent, Itachi rummaged through the nightstand drawer, found what he needed, ripped open the package and passed the condom to Deidara.

Deidara first squeezed a tiny drop of lube onto his fingertip and rubbed it around Itachi’s tip, then he slipped the condom onto Itachi’s cock in a practiced, two-handed movement. He took a palmful of lube and began to slowly work it up and down. Itachi let his head drop backwards and sank down on his heels.

After a moment, Itachi moved closer. He gazed down at Deidara with his hair spilling over the pillow. Kneeling and keeping his torso upright, he lifted Deidara’s legs one at a time, hooking them over his shoulders, then pressed his own hips forward. Deidara pressed his calves into Itachi’s shoulders and curled his tailbone upwards, lifting his hips into position. He reached around and used his hand to guide Itachi’s cock to his entrance.

Deidara swallowed and looked up at Itachi, hoping his body was ready for this.

“I’ll go slow,” Itachi murmured as he eased his hips forward.

“Nn!” Deidara grunted, his eye screwed shut, hand tense around Itachi’s cock as it made contact.

“Hah, god, you’re tight,” Itachi breathed, spontaneously kissing Deidara on the knee in sympathy. He pressed closer, harder…

When Itachi’s tip penetrated, Deidara cried out, his muscles _everywhere_ contracting. He gasped as heat flooded his body, sighed as Itachi sank deeper. Pain splintered through his body, followed swiftly by a rush of endorphins, multiplied tenfold by the pleasure which came from being touched like this after so long.

“Ah,” Deidara sighed as Itachi slipped deeper. “Fuck…”

Itachi worked slowly, building up friction, playing with different rhythms, different angles until he found Deidara’s prostate. Deidara closed his eye, and every time Itachi’s tip touched him in that spot he moaned. His hands lay limp on the bed. His lock of hair had flipped aside, but Itachi did not react to Deidara’s scars. He’d seen them before, after all. How could Deidara forget? And now Itachi was inside him, Itachi after all this time... Months ago this had been all he ever wanted, to have Itachi moving inside him, rising like a god above him, eyes closed, mouth parted, strong hands gripping his thighs...

“Fuck, you’re good… mn,” Deidara sighed. "So good. Don’t stop.”

Itachi pumped faster, lifting Deidara’s hips, spreading his legs further, then he took Deidara’s cock in his hand. That was the first time he noticed that Deidara was clean-shaven.

He grinned. “Where’s your hair?”

Deidara squinted up at Itachi. “I was bored! Mn.”

“So you shaved it all off?”

“Waxed. Get back to work, mn.” He closed his eye again.

Itachi worked his hand up and down Deidara’s smooth cock, playing with the tip. Deidara squirmed and gripped the sheets. He felt ready to burst, but he held himself back. He wanted to enjoy every moment of this, the sensation of Itachi slipping along his inner walls, the gentle caress of his fingers…

“Ah…!”

Just as Deidara was about to come, Itachi pulled out and made Deidara roll over. Deidara on his hands and knees, back arched, Itachi entered from behind and built up speed again, his breath coming hard and fast.

Itachi’s hand found Deidara’s cock once again, this time with a palmful of lube. He stroked Deidara as he pumped, slipping swiftly and smoothly up and down Deidara’s length. Deidara’s heart was pounding, his mind filled with white light.

He cried out as he came, ejaculating onto the sheets and Itachi’s hand. Itachi moaned as he rode the waves of Deidara’s orgasm; he was coming too, right behind; he was panting hard, holding on then with a cry, he finished. Deidara’s insides curled as he felt Itachi pulsing within him.

With a sigh, Itachi extracted himself and then collapsed on top of Deidara, who rolled aside to avoid being crushed. They lay side by side, panting.

“Damn that felt good, mn,” Deidara breathed. He felt like he was lying on a sun-drenched beach, dizzily drunk on piña coladas.

“Better than last time,” Itachi said matter-of-factly, sitting up and pulling his ponytail out. He ran his fingers through the now-straggly black strands and looked at Deidara. “Shower or food?”

“You gonna cook?” Deidara was having a hard time moving his body.

“Hell no. Delivery or nothing.”

Deidara’s stomach was feeling rather empty. “How long would delivery take?”

“Forty minutes?”

“I want Chinese, mn.” Deidara scooched to the edge of the bed where Itachi was, placed his legs on either side of him and his chin on Itachi’s shoulder. “And if we shower together we should be done by the time it gets here,” he whispered.

Itachi jumped up and snatched his phone up off the floor. In two taps he was ordering Chinese takeout, and in three more the order was placed. He threw his phone on the bed and pulled Deidara to standing.

“Come on, it’ll take forty minutes just to wash all that hair of yours,” he said as he dragged Deidara across the foyer to the bathroom. It was spacious and modern, but cluttered with random products, towels and appliances. There was no bathtub, only a wide, glass-walled shower.

“Oh my god, are you going to wash my hair?? You sure know how to treat a girl, Itachi! Mn,” Deidara sneered as Itachi flipped on the hot water. Deidara couldn’t stop himself from teasing. After goading Itachi for the better part of a year, it truly was force of habit.

“I’ll throw in a hand-job for free, miss,” Itachi joked back.

Deidara’s eye widened. “I don’t know what to think of this new side of you I’m seeing, Itachi. Here I was thinking you were some uptight stick-in-the-mud, but you’re actually funny, mn.”

Itachi shrugged. “If you hadn’t treated me like shit all year maybe you would have had a chance to get to know me better.”

“Ouch. If I’d known how bad you wanted to fuck me, maybe I wouldn’t—”

“Stop talking, you’ll ruin this.”

He stepped into the shower and pulled Deidara in with him. They stood beneath the hot water, letting it rinse down their bodies, cleansing away the rainwater and sex. After a moment, Deidara kissed Itachi again, pressing close. They both grew a little harder.

“Shit, yes…” Deidara hissed. He kissed Itachi harder, hungrier, his tongue tasting every part of Itachi’s mouth.

Itachi ran his hands through Deidara’s hair, or at least tried to. Grinning, he said, “Let’s do your hair last,” and reached for the body wash. They lathered each other up, and then took turns rinsing each other’s bodies with the showerhead. This was when it really struck Deidara just how thin Itachi was. He was leanly muscled with sinewy climber’s arms and calves, but there was little else to him, especially around the waist. Nothing like Sasori’s soft, flat belly and lightly muscled limbs.

“Have you ever washed anyone else’s hair before?” Itachi asked as they finished up.

Deidara stared. When it became clear that this wasn’t enough of an answer for Itachi, he said, “No, mn.”

“I’ll do yours first if you promise you’ll try to do a good job with mine,” Itachi said, his face serious.

Deidara laughed. “You’ve gotta be kidding. Why—”

“Humor me,” Itachi interjected. He turned off the water, then reached out of the shower for a small plastic stool.

“Sit,” he commanded Deidara. Taking the showerhead, he began to run the water through Deidara’s long hair, pulling it back from his eyes and massaging his scalp.

“Ooh,” Deidara sighed. His skepticism was swiftly disappearing.

Next came the shampoo. Itachi massaged it gently through Deidara’s roots, pressing on certain points of the scalp in a way that caused Deidara to relax muscles he hadn’t realized he’d been clenching.

“Damn, you’re good at this, mn.” He twisted around to look up at Itachi. “Does Sasori know? Would it be weird to invite you over to wash our hair? All of us wearing clothes, obviously, mn.”

Itachi just laughed.

When it was his turn, Deidara did his best to imitate, but ended up getting shampoo in Itachi’s eyes at least once or twice.

*

By the time the delivery man arrived downstairs, Deidara was wearing a pair of Itachi’s pajama bottoms and a clean t-shirt, blow drying his hair. It felt smooth and clean: Itachi had brushed it out for him after their shower.

The door clicked: Itachi had returned from collecting the food. From the sound of his footsteps he was taking the food into the sitting room or kitchen—Deidara had yet to venture into the rest of Itachi’s apartment. Stomach rumbling, Deidara tossed the dryer down, hair only half dry.

In the sitting room, Itachi had laid the food out on the coffee table and was turning on the television. He flicked through the streaming selections and picked an old animated TV show.

“I haven’t watched that in ages, mn,” Deidara commented. Itachi turned.

“Your hair’s still wet.”

“Food, mn.”

“Let me play with your hair while you eat,” Itachi said, walking past him to grab a comb from the bathroom. Deidara stared after him.

When he returned, Deidara hadn’t moved. He still stared at Itachi.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a little odd? Mn,” he said, following Itachi to the sofa.

“Usually they use the word ‘queer,’…”

Deidara laughed. “There it is again! You’re funny! Mn.”

Itachi patted the sofa. “Sit. Eat. Stop being an asshole.”

Deidara sat and grabbed the nearest container of food. Fried noodles. He snatched a pair of chopsticks and began shoveling food in his mouth. Itachi climbed onto the sofa and perched himself on the back cushions so that he could hover over Deidara and mess with this hair.

“Aren’t you going to eat? Mn,” Deidara said, half-turning to look at Itachi.

“Later,” he replied, completely engrossed in plaiting a tiny cornrow just above Deidara’s ear on his good-eye side.

“Here, mn,” Deidara said, spearing a lump of sweet-and-sour pork and lifting it to roughly where Itachi’s mouth ought to be—he couldn’t turn his head now with Itachi beginning another cornrow.

“Mthanks.”

Without moving his head too much, Deidara leaned forward and speared another piece of meat and fed Itachi again before taking a bite himself.

It took about twenty minutes for Itachi to finish the cornrows along the side of Deidara’s head, by which time Deidara was stuffed.

“Okay, now it’s your turn to eat, mn,” he said, shoving a box of fried rice and chopsticks into Itachi’s hands. “I’m going to have a look at what you’ve done to me.”

On his way to the bathroom, he heard his phone ringing. Somewhere.

“Shit, where’s my phone? What time is it?” Deidara half-called, not expecting an answer. He spied his overcoat on the floor and dove for it, hoping to catch the call. It had to be Sasori. He had been calling every night after dinner while he was away.

“It’s in the bedroom,” Itachi called back. “You had it in your back pocket. And it’s… just after 8 o’clock.”

“Shit!” Deidara dashed into the bedroom and scrambled through the tumble of clothes on the floor. He missed the call.

It started ringing again, and this time Deidara found the phone in time. The words “Evil Scorpion” were displayed on the screen—Deidara still hadn’t changed his address book since taking Sasori’s number during first semester finals.

“Hey,” Deidara greeted, a little breathless.

“Hey,” Sasori replied. Deidara smiled at the sound of his voice. “How was your day?”

“Good, mn,” Deidara replied. His mind was blank. “I miss you.” It was true. How had he not realized how true it was until he heard Sasori’s voice?

“I miss you, too,” Sasori said. Deidara could hear the smile. “I should be back on Sunday, but there’s a gallery opening on Monday that I’d really like to see… Professor Sage said it would be alright for me to stay an extra day or so and get Itachi to cover my classes. What do you think?”

“I think…” Deidara was still standing in Itachi’s bedroom. He sank down onto the bed. “I think it would be okay. Classes are boring without you though. Itachi is such a boring teacher, mn.”

“I know you don’t like him very much but try not to give him a hard time, okay?”

“No! I mean… He’s growing on me. Actually. He’s not that bad. In fact… I’m actually hanging out with him tonight, mn.” _Shit, why say that? Why even—_

“Oh really?” Sasori sounded very surprised. “Truly the end of an era. But I’m glad. I’ve always wanted you two to get along…”

_Well… we get along just great… like a house on fire… mn._

“What are you doing tonight, all alone in your hotel room? Mn.” Deidara thought he was quite clever to switch the topic like that.

“I was going to go out for a drink later with Professor Sage and some of his contacts here in the city. I tell you, there are a lot more opportunities for artists here. It might be worth considering—”

“What, moving?” Deidara cut in. “But I still have two more years of school, mn!”

“No, not right away! You need to graduate first, of course. I don’t really know what I’m saying, anyway…”

Deidara could feel how flustered Sasori was getting. _God, I love him so much… mn_.

“It’s okay,” Deidara soothed. “We can talk about it once you get back, mn.”

There was a sound on Sasori’s side—“Oh, that’s Sage knocking on my door. I’d better go…”

“It’s okay,” Deidara repeated. “I love you—”

_What did I just say?_

“Love you, too. Bye.” Sasori ended the call.

_What did I just say?_

*

Deidara padded back into the living room with his phone in his hand, in a bit of a daze.

“What’s up?” Itachi asked. “Was that Sasori?”

“Yeah… mn.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Deidara looked around distractedly, like he’d forgotten where he was. He looked at Itachi. “He’s already said ‘I love you’ to me once before, so it’s totally okay for me to say it now, right? Mn.”

Itachi’s brows pinched together. “Of course. Right. What…?”

“I’ve just never said it to him before. And I just said it and he acted like it was normal, mn. That’s normal, right?”

A bemused smile was forming on Itachi’s face. “Come sit down. You look like you’re going to faint.”

Deidara floated over to the sofa. He felt like a feather adrift as he settled into his seat. Itachi picked up the comb and gently began to part Deidara’s hair in the back, preparing it for more braids.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Deidara,” Itachi said after a minute. “You two are going to be fine. You’re not going to get in trouble with him for this.”

“How do you know? Mn?” Deidara turned to face Itachi.

Itachi shrugged. “I’ve known him for a long time.”

Deidara waited for more, but Itachi did not speak.

“And that’s it?”

Itachi shrugged again.

“Did you and he ever…?”

Shaking his head, Itachi turned his attention to Deidara’s hair again. “No, he was never in the right place. We’ve only ever been friends.” He shifted his position on the sofa, edging a little closer to Deidara. “But with you… it’s very complicated.”

Deidara laughed. “You could say that again, mn.”

He collapsed backwards onto Itachi’s chest, sinking into the support of him.

_There’s no going back… only forward… mn_.

After a moment, Deidara turned and kissed Itachi slowly, sensuously.

When they broke apart, he said, “Sasori isn’t coming back until at least Tuesday, he said. Can I stay tonight? Mn.”

Itachi’s response was to slip his hand beneath Deidara’s waistband.

“Why not?”

It didn’t take much to make Deidara hard again.

*

Hours later, Deidara lay beside Itachi, waiting for sleep to take him. Itachi was already snoring gently. Deidara’s body was spent, languid with pleasure. Itachi had given Deidara everything he’d asked for.

So why did he still feel so empty?

He’d had such an enormous crush on Itachi at the start of term, one which at the time he couldn’t see himself recovering from. Being dismissed by Itachi had infuriated him. But then he met Sasori, and from the very start, Deidara had been fascinated. From that very first meeting, Sasori had been a _challenge_. His crush on Itachi had faded into an irritating itch in the back of his mind, especially when Itachi was pretending he didn’t remember anything. But now that the itch had been scratched…

_I don’t really want Itachi,_ Deidara realized, running one of the little braids that ran the length of his hair through his fingers. _I want Sasori. I want a lifetime of discovering him. I don’t want to be with someone who’ll immediately give me whatever I want._ He knew that one day Itachi would make someone very happy. But it wasn’t going to be him.

He made up his mind.

Moving as quietly as he could, he slipped off the end of the bed and tiptoed to the bathroom, where they’d hung their clothes up on the radiator to dry.

He slipped a leg into his jeans, but lost his balance slightly in the dark. When the light flicked on, he was hopping around on one leg.

“Itachi!” Deidara looked up, expecting a sleepy-faced Itachi trying to use the bathroom, but was instead greeted by those unfathomable red eyes and an astute-yet-difficult-to-read expression.

“You’re leaving?” Itachi asked. It almost wasn’t a question.

“Um… yeah. Mn,” Deidara replied. “I—”

“You don’t need to try and think up an excuse. It’s fine,” Itachi shrugged. It was hard to tell if he was disappointed or merely indifferent.

Deidara continued to dress himself; Itachi leaned against the doorframe in his boxers with his arms folded.

Then, as if he’d just thought of something, Itachi started and straightened up: “I left some things at the warehouse—”

“You’re still coming over tomorrow, okay? Nothing changes because of this, mn.” Deidara was resolute. He looked at the floor as he gathered his words, then looked up sharply into Itachi’s eyes. They were wide with anticipation, and clear like crystals, ready to accept whatever Deidara was about to say.

“I…I think… I think Sas and I both need you,” Deidara said. He bit his lower lip. “I don’t want you to be scared of seeing either of us again because of this. And… I want you to know that we’re both here for you. For whatever you need, mn.”

Without warning, Itachi swept Deidara into a tight hug, so quickly that Deidara’s arms got pinned, one straight to his side, the other bent up and digging into his chest.

“Mph, Itachi,” Deidara grunted. His face smushed into Itachi’s collarbone. He tried to get an arm free, succeeding in releasing the bent one. “Leggo…”

“I think we can start on Sasori’s mother’s piece tomorrow,” Itachi murmured, that deep voice rumbling through Deidara’s chest.

He released Deidara and held him by the shoulders. “We can have it done in time for his birthday,” he said with a smile.

Deidara returned the smile. With a soft fist, he tapped Itachi lightly on the chest.

“You’re alright, Itachi-danna, mn.” His eye grew wide. “Is that okay? ‘Danna’?”

“Ha,” Itachi laughed, then he twitched his shoulders. “I guess? Maybe ‘san’ would be better…”

“It still feels weird in my mouth, the Japanese… mn.”

“You should learn more. Sasori’s grandmother doesn’t speak English.”

Deidara’s brows pinched together. “Why would I need to talk… to… Sasori’s… … grandmo—”

This time the punch connected much more sharply.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself!” But he couldn’t stop himself from grinning widely.

“Fuck me…” Deidara said as he ran a hand through his hair—it bumped along his cornrows. “I’m outta here, mn.”

“Stay safe. It’s late.” Itachi stepped aside and plucked Deidara’s coat off the coatrack.

“Mn.”

Itachi unbolted the door and turned his head away as if something on the floor held particular interest.

“Itachi,” Deidara called as he stepped past him.

When he looked up, Deidara kissed him on the lips, light as a feather.

“Thanks, mn.”

“See you tomorrow,” Itachi replied with a smirk.

**Author's Note:**

> _Song: Another Place by Bastille_
> 
> I am bound to you with a tie that we cannot break  
> With a night that we can't replace  
> I'm lost but found with you in a bed that we'll never make  
> It's a feeling we always chase  
> I could write a book about the things that you said to me on the pillow  
> And the way you think and how you make me feel  
> You can fill my mind and move my body with the fiction, fantasies  
> Just call this what it is, we don't pretend it's real  
> So don't make promises to me that you're gonna break  
> We only ever wanted one thing from this  
> Don't paint wonderful lies on me that wash away  
> We only ever wanted one thing from this  
> Oh, in another place  
> In another time, what could we have been?  
> 


End file.
